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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/23151076">Mindful Self-Indulgence</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/crowbeau/pseuds/crowbeau'>crowbeau</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>M/M, Masturbation, Mutual Masturbation, Mutual Pining, Sloppy Makeouts, Teacher-Student Relationship, slight bloodplay</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-03-15</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-03-15</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-01 11:00:35</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>11,540</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/23151076</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/crowbeau/pseuds/crowbeau</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Dimitri struggles with the feelings he's developing for his professor.  Unbeknownst to him, Byleth is having the same problem.  It takes a bit of a push from an outspoken songstress, a sly flirt, and the literal Goddess to get these two to acknowledge their mutual pining.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Dimitri Alexandre Blaiddyd/My Unit | Byleth</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>6</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>142</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Mindful Self-Indulgence</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>good grief,,, this fic is a monster,,, just take it,,,</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Dimitri had the first dream about five months after Byleth Eisner came to preside over the Blue Lions class.  It came as no surprise, especially given their training sessions together.</p><p>Once Byleth had learnt that Dimitri worked through his troubles with his lance, the professor was more than willing to offer himself up as a sparring partner.  It worked well for the both of them. </p><p>And that had held true this evening.  Except for, of course, that thing.</p><p> </p><p>That thing being where Byleth had been particularly perturbed following their battle with Miklan and the reclamation of the Lance of Ruin.  Lady Rhea had wanted it returned to her.  Byleth had adamantly refused.</p><p>Byleth was always unsettled when he and the Archbishop disagreed.  Dimitri hadn’t been able to tell early-on, but over time, as they’d grown closer, it became easier to read the professor; as long as Dimitri knew what to look for, he could practically read Byleth’s thoughts.</p><p>But such scrutiny wasn’t necessary that evening; there was no point in trying to decipher Byleth’s feelings.  They were plain as day.</p><p>This was the side of the professor that Dimitri both feared and revered; the side of Byleth that was worthy to be called the “Ashen Demon,” who was vicious despite his expressionless features.</p><p>          “<em>Professor</em>-,” Dimitri hissed breathlessly, leaping back as Byleth lashed out at him, frowning when his sword didn’t connect.</p><p>          “Your speed has increased since our last spar.”</p><p>That was likely on account of the Speedwing Byleth had purchased from Anna, but the professor offered no comment in that regard.</p><p>He drew back and levelled his sword, crouching as he prepared to launch himself at Dimitri again.  The prince took a measured breath and readied himself, positioning his lance low.</p><p>When Byleth came at him, Dimitri was ready, striking the professor in the ribs with the shaft.  It was enough to snap the lance in two but Dimitri simply used what remained to knock Byleth off-balance.</p><p>“Hah!” laughed Sothis, who seemed to materialise only ever to mock Byleth.</p><p>The professor swore and spun his sword in hand, catching the worn blade in his gloved palm before slinging the handle into the spot just over Dimitri’s hip.  The prince went to one knee, startled by the spark of sudden pain.</p><p>Byleth staggered into him and they both collapsed. </p><p> </p><p>“Wow,” said Sothis, sinking to a stand in the sand and putting her hands to her hips, “I’d complain but… I’ve seen clumsier courtships.  Just ask my Cichol.  Though I highly doubt he’d be willing to confess the truth of things…”</p><p>Byleth groaned, wishing—not for the first time—that there was someone else who could hear her ridiculous comments.  Dimitri hissed as the armour at the professor’s left knee dug into the fabric of his trousers at his thigh.  When he lifted his gaze, Byleth was staring at him.  The prince was startled to find Byleth’s dark eyes bright with joy.  Though there was no slow quirk of his lips, no crinkling right beneath his eyes to suggest even the slightest happiness, there was no denying the fire in his gaze.</p><p>Dimitri figured that if Byleth had indeed smiled at that point, he might very well have died on the spot from the sight of it.</p><p>But Byleth did not smile.  Instead, he simply gave Dimitri an approving nod.</p><p>“That was quick thinking, using the broken lance as you did.”</p><p>“Kiss that prince!” Sothis goaded in the background, but Byleth was too busy gazing at Dimitri to pay her any mind.</p><p>Dimitri’s throat bobbed and he closed his eyes.</p><p><em>Here it comes, </em>he thought.</p><p>“Well done, Dimitri,” murmured Byleth.</p><p>
  <em>Ah, and there it is.</em>
</p><p>And there it was: not only the prince’s weakness, but his most carefully guarded secret: the professor’s praise.</p><p>After a moment, Byleth seemed to realise he was putting too much pressure on Dimitri’s leg and rolled off him and into the sand at the prince’s side.  Dimitri took in a shallow breath and swallowed thickly.</p><p>Yes, this had been the night where it had all begun.  This was the interaction responsible for that damn dream…</p><p> </p><p>…It had started off simply enough: Dimitri and Byleth were sparring together.  They were often doing so in the waking world, it only made sense to do the same here, Dimitri figured. </p><p>But as the dream continued, the prince found himself repeating the motions from their earlier practice.  This time, though, he was sure to catch the handle of Byleth’s sword, dodging the professor’s blow and swinging the weapon out of reach.</p><p>It landed uselessly in the sand and Byleth clicked his tongue, annoyed at the inconvenience.  He lunged at Dimitri and the prince struck him in the chest.</p><p>Byleth staggered back, gasping for air.  Dimitri’s gaze fell to the armour that sat over the professor’s left knee.  It guarded his old wound, one that had never healed properly.</p><p>The prince bent and quickly yanked Byleth’s weak leg out from under him and the professor collapsed onto his back with a hiss.  As Byleth made to rise, Dimitri dropped to his knees and pinned the professor beneath himself.</p><p>          “Taking lessons from Claude now, are we?” Byleth murmured, and a rare amusement danced in his dark eyes.</p><p>Dimitri stared down into his face.  Even though it was a dream, it felt so-,</p><p>          “A weakness is a weakness,” Byleth allowed lightly, unperturbed by Dimitri’s sly tactic.</p><p>The prince’s gaze narrowed; he wasn’t sure how to take being compared to Claude.  Taking advantage of Byleth’s weak knee felt wrong; this was a bit different from an intentional poisoning attempt.</p><p>          “You’ve done beautifully, Dimitri,” the professor said.</p><p>And Dimitri was reminded once again that it was merely a dream when Byleth gently cupped his face.  His hands were bare.  Warm. </p><p>The professor made to sit up and Dimitri let him, still pitched up on his knees.</p><p>          “But remember: a weakness is still just a weakness.”</p><p>When the prince sought clarification, Byleth reached up and brushed his sandy fringe from his face.</p><p>          “It’s a weakness.”</p><p>And it was then that Dimitri knew what was coming.  He lifted a trembling hand, needing to put some distance between the two of them before things got dangerous.</p><p>But then Byleth’s lips met his, and all of Dimitri’s doubt melted away in that soft kiss.</p><p> </p><p>Dimitri went slack at the contact and he sank down into Byleth’s lap.  The professor drew back, taking in a slow breath as he regarded Dimitri quietly from beneath his long lashes.</p><p>Dimitri watched him back, cheeks flaming and lips buzzing from the electricity Byleth’s mouth had left upon his own.  The professor’s gaze dropped to Dimitri’s hands and he slowly entangled their fingers, squeezing the prince’s hands.</p><p>          “Dimitri—,” Byleth breathed, looking back into the prince’s face.</p><p>His soft lips were slightly parted and Dimitri swallowed thickly, suddenly dizzy.</p><p>          “Professor—,” he murmured.</p><p>The space between them was closing.  The prince realised it was because Byleth was leaning in; did he truly intend to kiss him again?  Dimitri wasn’t sure his heart could take it.</p><p>But then Byleth’s mouth was upon his, his lips fitting them together so naturally that Dimitri didn’t even notice when the professor began to taste him. </p><p> </p><p>It was more like Dimitri had slowly come to acknowledge that the kisses were deeper.  They were still just as cautious, just as slow, but Byleth was conquering more of his mouth.</p><p>And once Dimitri took note of it, he freed one of his hands from the professor’s, lifting it to the back of Byleth’s neck so he could hold him in place.  And then the prince kissed Byleth back, movements clumsy as he sought to taste the professor.</p><p>Dimitri wondered minutely, as Byleth opened easily to his advances, if he had always wanted this from the professor.  But, as he licked his way inside Byleth’s mouth and the professor’s breath caught in his throat, Dimitri knew.</p><p> </p><p>Of course he’d wanted this.  How often had he let his mind play Byleth’s low voice in his head, repeating lines of praise over and over until Dimitri was practically drunk with pride?</p><p>          “<em>Dimitri</em>,” Byleth gasped against his lips, and to Dimitri’s shameful delight, it took the professor a few moments to focus on his face.</p><p>Was he really so out of it from just that?  Something about it, something about the knowledge that Dimitri had been the one to do that to Byleth…</p><p>The prince threaded his fingers through Byleth’s inky hair, the pads of his fingers pressing against the professor’s hairline at the base of his neck.  Blush dusted its way across Byleth’s cheeks and his gaze slipped to one side as he angled his head in a not-so-subtle exposure of his throat.</p><p>Dimitri’s cock twitched with interest in his trousers and he sucked in a shallow breath through his nose.  He splayed his hand wide across the back of the professor’s neck and Byleth tensed up as the prince crooked his head and pressed a slow kiss to his throat.</p><p>          “<em>Good</em>,” Byleth murmured, and his voice was hoarse in Dimitri’s ear.</p><p>And though it was just a single word, the prince felt desire sluice through his veins, blazing like hellfire at the praise.</p><p>          “<em>Professor</em>,” he breathed against Byleth’s skin, “<em>Professor</em>…”</p><p>Dimitri felt Byleth smile and the prince reared back suddenly, desperate to see that wondrous expression.</p><p>And then there it was, Byleth’s soft lips curving up into a smile of gentle satisfaction.  And there was Dimitri, boneless in the professor’s lap, coming to terms with the fact that <em>he</em> was the cause of all this.</p><p>          “Dimitri,” said Byleth, and his gaze was so tender and it hurt so <em>much</em>, “you’ve made such progress.”</p><p>He cupped the prince’s face, tracing his thumb across Dimitri’s cheek, and then Byleth trailed his fingers up into Dimitri’s hair; it was as though the professor was giving in to some secret desire unknown to the prince, some desperate need to be closer to him, to relish in his warmth, to know Dimitri so wholly that there would be no doubt that he was his.  And the prince welcomed it.</p><p>          “Let me show you,” Byleth whispered, and his breath was so deliciously hot against the prince’s lips, “how proud I am.”</p><p>And then the professor kissed him again, the movement calculated and demanding. </p><p>Dimitri felt as though he’d been set alight by such aching hunger.  And he wanted it to last forever.</p><p> </p><p>***</p><p> </p><p>Dimitri woke early the following morning. </p><p>To his embarrassment, he found that he had quite totally ruined his evening trousers.  He stood and gracelessly yanked them off, sighing as he eyed the sheets; he’d wrecked them as well.</p><p>The prince sauntered over to his chest of drawers, shaking out the folds of a pair of briefs before tugging them on.  He then sighed and stepped out into the hall.  Thankfully, it was still too early for the others to be up and about just yet.</p><p>Dimitri shuffled down the hall and let out a breath of relief once he’d made it into the private bath.  He hurriedly stripped off his briefs, acknowledging they would be quite ruined now as well, what with all that mess between his legs.</p><p>He unbuttoned his sleeping blouse with shaking hands and staggered into the bath, sinking low into the steaming water in an attempt to drown the reminders of Byleth’s ghostly caresses.</p><p>After a moment, Dimitri slowly lifted a hand to his face, running his fingertips across his lips.  Byleth had kissed him.  And he had kissed back. </p><p>
  <em>“Let me show you… how proud I am.”</em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>For a long moment, Dimitri’s other hand rested atop his thigh beneath the water.  The mere thought that he would even <em>consider </em>touching himself, bringing himself to a toe-curling orgasm on the remnants of his dream of the professor, was so alien that he felt an intense disconnect from his body.</p><p>This had never happened before.  Perhaps it was simply because his mind had been occupied solely by the thoughts—by the <em>need</em>—to exact revenge for Lambert and for Glenn, and for all the others who had been slain in Duscur.</p><p>And yet, despite all of this, Dimitri hesitated.  For just one moment lost in time, he let his hand fall between his legs, his grip loose around his half-hard cock.  The prince closed his eyes and leant back to rest his head against the warm tiled lip of the bath.  He let the scattered pieces of the dream take shape in his mind, letting that image of Byleth’s soft smile echo over and over behind his eyelids.</p><p>How beautiful a sight; what he would give to see it blossom into a reality…</p><p> </p><p>The door to the bath came creaking open and Dimitri sat bolt-upright, splashing at the water with enough force to send waves crashing over the lip.</p><p>          “Ah, Your Highness!  You startled me.”</p><p>Dimitri blinked.</p><p>          “Sylvain!  It’s only you.”</p><p>          “Yeah, it’s only me.  Jeez, you look like you’ve seen a ghost.”</p><p>The prince pushed his sandy hair from his face and sank back against the tile of the bath.</p><p>          “I assure you I’m fine,” Dimitri said quietly, “I was only—, thinking over a few things.”</p><p>Sylvain eyed the prince for a moment and opened his mouth to confront him.  But then he wordlessly closed it, shrugged, and disrobed without pressing for an elaboration.</p><p>          “I heard you were up late sparring with the Professor last night,” he said, ever-ready to extend the olive branch of a change in subject.</p><p>Dimitri stiffened at the mention and he forced himself to relax beneath Sylvain’s scrutiny.  A strand of his hair slipped down and into his face.  Sylvain sank into the tub with a long sigh.</p><p>          “Ah,” he breathed, “that’s nice.”</p><p>          “You’re not quite the early-riser type.  What’s the occasion, Sylvain?”</p><p>          “Felix and I have a date.”</p><p>Sylvain flashed Dimitri a smile.  The prince squinted at him from across the wide tub.</p><p>          “A date?”</p><p>          “Well, he probably wouldn’t like me saying it like that.  But we’re taking Anna and her lover out for lunch.  Buttering them up, you know?”</p><p>          “Sylvain, I really cannot have you—,”</p><p>          “Relax, Your Highness.  It’s just to get a discount on one of those Levin Swords Felix is always going on about.”</p><p>Sylvain leant back and cushioned his head in his hands with another long sigh.  Dimitri studied him in the soft silence.  Sylvain was the type with a big presence, both physically and socially; he was nothing like Byleth, stone-faced and pensive.  Sylvain was straightforward—in his flirtation, his smiles, even his slow boiling rage towards their society driven by crests.  But it made him dependable; Dimitri trusted him completely.</p><p>Byleth was different.  And perhaps it was because of that—because he could switch so easily between merciless mercenary and tender teacher—that Dimitri was drawn to him like a moth to flame.</p><p>And not unlike Icarus, he needed to get closer.</p><p>          “…Dimitri.”</p><p>The prince blinked and looked up.  Sylvain was watching him quietly, the corners of his mouth downturned in the beginnings of a troubled frown.</p><p>          “Pardon?”</p><p>“I asked, Your Highness, if you’re sure you’re feeling okay.”</p><p>Dimitri got to a quick stand, his skin rosy from the heat of the bath.  Sylvain studied the ceiling.</p><p>          “Yes,” the prince replied, “I suppose you were right; the heat’s a bit much for me.  I should get going, there’s a seminar…”</p><p>Byleth was going to be the one teaching it. </p><p>          “Enjoy your brunch with Miss Anna and her companion,” Dimitri said, towelling himself off hurriedly.</p><p>Sylvain’s gaze dropped down to him.</p><p>          “Your Highness, you know if you’re having some sort of an issue—especially with a girl—I’m always—,”</p><p>          “I appreciate the offer, Sylvain, truly I do.  But I assure you, I’m quite alright.  I’ll see you for the lecture next week.”’</p><p>Dimitri ducked to gather up his wrinkled clothes and, after a moment, glanced at Sylvain over his shoulder.</p><p>          “You know, if you’re really looking to impress Miss Anna, I heard her companion is a fan of Angel Mead.  It’s expensive, but I’m sure you’ll think of a way to get your hands on it.  For Felix’s sake.”</p><p>          “I suppose I could always work some of my Gautier charm—,”</p><p>          “Yes, and with that I’ll be taking my leave,” interrupted Dimitri.</p><p>His lips quirked up slightly and there was a flash of amusement in his clearwater eyes.  Eased by Dimitri’s reception—and consequent participation—in their banter, Sylvain sank back into the tub and waved Dimitri off.  The prince chuckled to himself and stepped out into the hall.</p><p> </p><p>***</p><p> </p><p>Dimitri was conflicted when he found that he was not the only one in attendance at Byleth’s seminar.  Ingrid was perched in the first row, her head bent at an angle as she quietly explained some manoeuvres to Dorothea.</p><p>Hanneman had his nose shoved in a book, adamantly refusing to acknowledge Manuela, who was propped up against him and snoring softly.</p><p>Ferdinand von Aegir was there too, as always, likely spouting off how this seminar would help him in his quest to finally best Edelgard.  Linhardt had accompanied him.  As for the reason, it was hard to say, if his unconscious state was any indication.  Ferdinand von Aegir roused him gently when Byleth entered and made his way up to the podium.</p><p>The information outlined in his seminar was finely detailed and easy to follow.  Dimitri absorbed none of it.  He was too focused on the move of Byleth’s lips, the way the professor’s gaze flickered up every so often, just to make sure no one was getting lost in the material.  And just once—Dimitri was certain he had imagined it—Byleth had looked right at him.  And the ghost of a smile had flickered across his face before he schooled his features again.</p><p>It was the most beautiful and torturous thing the prince had ever seen.</p><p> </p><p>When the seminar was over, Ferdinand von Aegir hoisted a sleeping Linhardt into his arms and left in a huff.  Dorothea watched him with quiet disapproval.  But when Ingrid giggled, the songstress’s expression softened and she simply rolled her eyes.  Hanneman pulled Manuela to a stand and led her from the room.  As Dimitri was gathering up his notes, wondering how he could’ve possibly allowed himself to become so unfocused, Byleth’s voice echoed in his head.</p><p>
  <em>Ah, and now your voice joins the others…</em>
</p><p>          “Dimitri?”</p><p>The prince blinked and whipped around, startled to find that Byleth had approached him; he hadn’t imagined the professor’s voice at all.  But then, that was no good.  He was getting much too distracted; that dream was proving to be quite the troublesome thing…</p><p>          “Professor,” Dimitri said, hoping he wasn’t as red as he felt, “what can I do for you?”</p><p>          “I wanted to be sure you’d gone to see Manuela.”</p><p>Dimitri blinked.</p><p>Byleth watched him.</p><p>          “For your hip.”</p><p>          “My hip.”</p><p>Dimitri blinked again.  His hip?  Had something happened to his—,</p><p>          “Oh!” he said, recalling the way Byleth had struck him during their spar, “Oh, yes.  I—, no.  I haven’t had any trouble, so I didn’t think it necessary to visit Professor Man—,”</p><p>          “Go,” said Byleth, and his tone was almost forceful.</p><p>Dimitri trailed off, startled.</p><p>          “Go see her,” the professor continued, smoothing his overcoat, “if something were to come from this… I couldn’t bear the thought of it.”</p><p>Though Byleth did not specify, the prince was certain he was thinking on his own wound and its improper healing.  Byleth had confided in Dimitri once, admitting that he’d tried to fix it.  The thought of it made the prince yearn to sweep Byleth up in his arms and promise that everything would be alright.  Even if it wouldn’t.  Even <em>when </em>it wouldn’t.</p><p>          “But,” mused Byleth, “I certainly must commend your skill.”</p><p>          “Augh, this again?” said Sothis, sinking onto one of the lecture tables.</p><p>She did sound minutely amused though, and that alone made Byleth feel a bit giddy; he enjoyed her company, especially when it seemed as though she was enjoying herself.  Dimitri stared at Byleth, cheeks heating; the praise was unexpected, though not unappreciated.</p><p>The professor took a step forward and Dimitri suddenly became very aware of how close they were.  And thinking back to that damnable dream, the prince had the urge to close the space between them, to seal things with a kiss.  That was a terribly perverse thought and Dimitri dropped his gaze, ashamed by it.</p><p>          “In what regard?” Dimitri wondered, more to himself than to Byleth.</p><p>          “Our spar,” said the professor, “I’d like to do it again sometime.”</p><p>          “At the risk of sounding too forward, perhaps we might do so this evening.”</p><p>Byleth blinked and for a moment, he looked something akin to startled.  But his expression softened and he gave Dimitri a small nod.</p><p>          “Yes.  I’m… that’s good.  That’s perfectly alright with me.”</p><p>While the fact that Byleth had agreed to a spar was ultimately a success, Dimitri hadn’t failed to notice the tension that lurked across the planes of the professor’s face.  Perhaps he’d taken issue with another of Rhea’s orders, not that Dimitri could blame him.  Having to fight Lord Lonato and then Miklan…</p><p>          “Until tonight then,” said the professor.</p><p>And Dimitri, yearning to drink in more of Byleth’s personal attention, couldn’t stop himself from: “Just a moment, Professor—,”</p><p>          “Oho!  Perhaps it shall be the student who takes the first step?” mused Sothis.</p><p>Byleth blinked owlishly at Dimitri, curious as to what he could possibly want to discuss; perhaps he was thinking over the lecture—had it been too difficult to follow?  If even Dimitri were to be lost in it, then—,</p><p>          “It’s alright, Dimitri,” said Byleth, and he was standing so close that the prince could smell the light scent of his cologne wafting from his Academy garb.</p><p>
  <em>What is it, almost… a vanilla…?</em>
</p><p>          “…Of course, we can always take this up to the Captain’s Quarters, if you prefer somewhere more private to discuss things,” Byleth was saying.</p><p>Dimitri stared at him.</p><p>
  <em>Somewhere more… private?  As if this isn’t already difficult enough…</em>
</p><p>          “That’s quite—that isn’t necessary, Professor.  I only wanted—,”</p><p>What did he want?  To rid himself of these terrible impulses and the desire aimed at Byleth, obviously. </p><p>
  <em>But I would sooner expire than admit to such a thing… Perhaps I ought to have asked Sylvain for a bit of advice…</em>
</p><p>“I simply—, was hoping we could do a bit of swordplay.  Aside from lances, I think—, that is to say, I would <em>prefer</em> to expand my horizons.  As it were.”</p><p>A bit stilted, but that response was decent enough, Dimitri supposed.  Byleth seemed pleasantly surprised by the request.</p><p>          “Ah,” he said, nodding, “so that’s it—, yes, of course.”</p><p>The professor sounded oddly relieved; maybe Byleth was just as anxious.  Dimitri was uncharacteristically reassured by this.</p><p> </p><p>***</p><p> </p><p>When Dimitri arrived at the Training Grounds in the evening, Byleth was already there.  His head was bent as he conversed quietly with Felix.  They were talking over a Levin Sword.</p><p>
  <em>Seems like Sylvain’s charm paid off.</em>
</p><p>          “You’re welcome to stay,” Byleth was saying, “if you’d like to spar with—,”</p><p>          “I’d rather not,” Felix murmured, “there’s no point in me wasting my time with the boar.”</p><p>Byleth’s mouth twitched and Dimitri had studied him long enough to know that he was supressing a frown.  He eyed the empty space next to himself and Dimitri wondered if the professor was still getting used to Jeralt’s absence; they had always been together before this. </p><p>          “Perhaps this one thinks you a capable beast tamer,” offered Sothis, though her words didn’t ring with their usual amusement.</p><p>“Right then,” said Byleth, “in any case—,”</p><p>“Arcane crystals for any repairs.  I won’t forget.”</p><p>Felix’s gaze flickered to Dimitri for a moment before he tucked his swords under one arm and stalked from the Training Grounds.  Byleth sighed before turning to regard the prince.  Dimitri was just about to nod to him when Byleth shot him a pleased look.  The prince blinked.</p><p>“I’m relieved to see you,” Byleth said, perhaps by way of explanation.</p><p>“Look who’s bold this evening!” Sothis chimed in.</p><p>Dimitri had nothing to say; he watched as Byleth collected another training sword for him.  When the professor returned and offered it, Dimitri’s face heated as Byleth’s hand briefly warmed his own.  And for a long moment—an impossibly long moment—the prince contemplated slinging the sword aside in favour of embracing him.  The temptation was nearly overwhelming.  Dimitri took a deep breath to steady himself.</p><p>          “I know that on occasion, Felix can be—,” Dimitri trailed off and gestured after him.</p><p>Byleth dismissed it and dropped into a defensive stance: “It’s no trouble.  He’s a good student.”</p><p>          “He’s like Glenn.  He’d make a good knight.”</p><p>          “Perhaps,” was all Byleth allowed.</p><p>          “Sincerely doubting that, myself,” agreed Sothis, seeming at ease now that Byleth and the prince were together again.  Sensing that their conversation was over, Dimitri drew his sword up. </p><p> </p><p>On their first exchange, Byleth’s sword clashed against the prince’s so perfectly that the blades sang.  When Dimitri parried a blow and took the chance to look into Byleth’s face, the professor’s expression was bright with excitement.</p><p>          “Professor—,” Dimitri breathed before he could stop himself.</p><p>Byleth’s gaze softened and he drew back to catch his breath.  The prince studied him for a moment, breathing hard.</p><p>          “I’ve been needing this,” the professor admitted.</p><p>And when Dimitri opened his mouth to reply, no words came.  For Byleth to confess that he needed this—a spar with <em>Dimitri</em> of all people—was practically as good as that fantasy he’d dreamt up.</p><p>          “I’m not one to sit still,” Byleth continued, sweeping his sword in Dimitri’s direction, “and I worry that that disinterest in my duties reflects in my teachings, and I… during that seminar, all I could think of was having another go at you.”</p><p>Dimitri almost asked: “Am I dreaming?”  But managed to bite his lip in the nick of time.  Crisis averted.</p><p>          “It’s nice,” the professor hissed breathlessly as he ducked beneath Dimitri’s blade, “to spar like this.”</p><p>He paused.</p><p>          “Add a ‘with you’ in there!” encouraged Sothis.</p><p>“With you,” added Byleth.</p><p>The prince took a few steps back, distracted, and Byleth claimed more of the space between them, the point of his sword invasive as Dimitri attempted to work through what he’d just heard.</p><p>
  <em>He enjoys sparring… with me?  Specifically, me?  The professor… sparring… with me?</em>
</p><p>Dimitri winced as rough cobblestone grated uncomfortably against his back; Byleth’s assault had pressed him into a corner.  After a moment, the professor’s blade struck him in the arm and Dimitri released his grip on his training sword.</p><p>Byleth sighed, placated by the fight, and slung his sword away, shaking out his hand.</p><p>          “I didn’t mean to tease you,” he said, and that got Dimitri’s attention.</p><p>The prince stared as Byleth turned back to gaze at him.  His expression was wounded.  It made something uncomfortable twist in Dimitri’s gut.</p><p>          “I’ve gotten used to this,” the professor confessed, “and I’m afraid I’ve taken to riling you up.”</p><p>Dimitri blinked.  The words Byleth had spoken in his dream rose to mind: “<em>Taking lessons from Claude now, are we?</em>”  He resisted the urge to speak them aloud, despite the relevance.</p><p>          “You mean to say… those things you said—,”</p><p>          “I meant them,” Byleth said quickly, as though worried that Dimitri would be hurt, “I absolutely meant them.  But saying such things as we are now, during a spar…”</p><p>He trailed off, uncertain of how to put his feelings into words.  Feelings.  They were still new.  Byleth was still getting used to them.</p><p>          “It’s not how the Church does things,” he finished, and the words tasted strange.</p><p>Since when did he care about how the Church did things?  Had he not just argued with Rhea over the Lance of Ruin?  Had he not refused to return it, instead bestowing it upon Sylvain, a person he deemed to be a worthy wielder?  Byleth had never been a part of the Church, not really.  Jeralt had made sure of it. </p><p>          “But it’s certainly how <em>you </em>do things,” muttered Sothis.</p><p>Her ghostly elbow settled atop one of Byleth’s shoulders and he resisted the urge to snort, certain Dimitri would take offence, thinking the response was aimed at him.</p><p>          “It’s a weakness,” the prince offered and Sothis perked up at the mention.</p><p>          “I told you this wasn’t one-sided!” the Goddess murmured with an amused giggle.</p><p>Byleth rolled his eyes at her as Dimitri bent to retrieve his sword.</p><p>          “Let’s continue,” he said.</p><p>The professor retreated as Dimitri came at him, swiping his sword from the ground in order to parry the prince’s blow.</p><p>          “No hesitation,” Byleth commented, “very nice.”</p><p>Dimitri forced down the swell of pride in his chest at the remark; if he let Byleth win now, there was a chance that the professor would stop the teasing remarks.  And Dimitri certainly couldn’t have that.</p><p>          “Come on—!” Byleth hissed under his breath as the prince took a few wide steps back.</p><p>He seemed to think Dimitri was toying with him. </p><p>          “You’re not playing by the rules,” the professor muttered.</p><p>Sothis chuckled from her spot on the sidelines, amused.</p><p>          “Rules?” echoed Dimitri, “Surely you jest, Professor.”</p><p>          “He’s right,” Sothis chimed in, “the moment you learn of a rule, you become determined to break it.  I’ve seen the way you bend over backwards to amuse yourself with my Cichol.”</p><p>Byleth set his jaw and leapt at the prince, drawing his sword back and preparing to strike.  Dimitri parried the motion with enough strength to have Byleth striking his knuckle against his own nose.</p><p>The professor shook himself, momentarily disoriented, and when he raised his head, his nose was bleeding.  Dimitri’s eyes went wide.</p><p>          “Professor—,” he began, his grip on his sword loosening.</p><p>          “We’re not finished,” Byleth breathed, smearing the blood across the back of his dark glove.</p><p>Dimitri frowned, disapproving, but he swung his sword again, striking the professor in the ribs with enough force to have him lose his grip on his blade.  Byleth’s gaze dropped to the weapon and Dimitri yanked him away from it by his sleeve.  The professor spun, perhaps to sling an insult—they were getting too into things—but Dimitri swept his legs out from under him.</p><p> </p><p>The prince went to his knees, pinning Byleth’s hands on either side of his head.  The blood from his nose trailed down over the seam of his lips.  They were both breathing hard.  Dimitri’s gaze dropped to Byleth’s stained mouth.  He bent, sticking his tongue out, and the professor took a sharp inhale.</p><p>And then Dimitri pulled back, locking gazes with him.  The silence hung between them but neither the prince nor Byleth were willing to break it.  After a moment, though, Byleth’s expression softened—he looked oddly resigned—and he parted his lips. </p><p>          “Mit’ya—,” he began.</p><p>And that was the closest thing to an invitation that Dimitri had ever gotten.  He bent and carefully captured Byleth’s lips with his own, squeezing the professor’s wrists and he deepened the kiss.</p><p>Byleth tensed up as Dimitri hurried to taste him, curiosity giving way to desperation.  The professor winced as Dimitri took up more of the space between them.  It was only when Byleth moaned beneath such attention that the prince finally withdrew.  Dimitri blinked a few times, as though just realising what he’d done. </p><p>His mouth was stained with Byleth’s blood.  And then, his eyes widened and he dropped his gaze, releasing his grips on the professor’s wrists.  Hot shame flushed his face and then Byleth was reaching up to smear the blood at Dimitri’s lips.</p><p>          “This look doesn’t suit you,” he said, and his voice was hoarse.</p><p>Dimitri blinked again, “Professor—,”</p><p>As Byleth made to sit up, the prince parted from him, shaking.  The professor gently took one of his hands and squeezed it.</p><p>          “Dimitri,” he breathed, and his gaze flickered over to Sothis who was wordlessly pumping her fists into the air, “between the two of us, don’t you think I should be the one shaking?”</p><p>There was a beat of silence as the prince processed this.  And then he laughed.  It was a short, disbelieving sound and after he’d stopped, he seemed genuinely surprised to have made it in the first place.  Byleth gave him a little, lopsided smile.     </p><p>          “It’s alright,” he said, squeezing the prince’s hand again.</p><p>          “You called me ‘Mit’ya,’” said Dimitri.</p><p>Byleth pinked, “Yes.  I—, it must’ve slipped out.”</p><p>          “I liked it.  It’s been too long since—,” but the prince shook his head, letting the rest of his sentence die on his tongue.</p><p>Byleth was certain he was thinking of his family.  Of the Tragedy.  Sothis was gesturing wildly to the entrance of the Training Grounds.</p><p>          “Take this someplace else!” she hissed empathically.</p><p>The professor returned his gaze to Dimitri.</p><p>          “We should go,” he said.</p><p>Sothis nodded in approval and gave him a little wave, dissipating.</p><p> </p><p>Once they were outside, the cool evening’s breeze kissed the back of Byleth’s neck and he shivered beneath its caress.  Dimitri released the professor’s hand, suddenly stiff at his side.</p><p>          “Dimitri—?”</p><p>          “Professor,” he said, and his voice was soft—so quiet, as though he feared he’d shatter this timid thing between them like blown glass—“Professor, I ought to return to my dormitory for the night.”</p><p>Byleth blinked.  He wondered briefly—foolishly—if somewhere along the way, he’d messed this thing up.  What had happened?  Had he said too much to the prince, accepted his advances in a way unbefitting either of them?  Millions of questions were mounting upon the tip of his tongue.</p><p>          “Of course,” the professor said instead, and the words tasted like the sands of Almyra, “good night, Dimitri.”</p><p>The prince gave him an awkward nod and refused to meet his gaze.</p><p>          “Good night, Professor.”</p><p>Byleth watched as he turned and made his way to the dorms.  And for some strange reason, it sort of… hurt.</p><p> </p><p>***</p><p> </p><p>Dimitri closed his door with forced slowness before turning to rest his weight against it.  He took in a measured inhale and then carefully lifted a hand to his mouth.  His lips were still buzzing from the earlier contact.  After a long moment, as the prince stood slumped against the door, attempting to steady himself, there were soft sounds from just beyond the wall.</p><p>          “What’s…” the prince began, sinking onto his knees upon his mattress as he pressed his ear to the wall, listening.</p><p>          “<em>Sylvain</em>—,” Felix was warning, his voice tight with irritation.</p><p>          “Patience, patience,” came Sylvain’s slow, teasing reply.</p><p>And for a few moments, Dimitri just listened to them; the back-and-forth of their breathing, the gentleness in Sylvain’s voice and the resulting trust in Felix’s.</p><p>“I won’t train with you tomorrow if you’re sore,” Sylvain reminded.</p><p>Dimitri closed his eyes.  Byleth’s half-lidded gaze and bloodied lips were waiting, the echo of that memory flickering over and over on repeat as the prince tried to take note of every little detail.</p><p>Byleth had clearly wanted him—perhaps even as much as Dimitri desired the professor—and yet, he’d fled as soon as Byleth had suggested they go somewhere more private.</p><p>
  <em>Why?  </em>
</p><p>But it was fear.  It always was.  There was the fear that he’d break Byleth, that Byleth would gaze into his eyes so deeply and see every little fracture that had skirted across Dimitri’s battered and broken heart since the Tragedy.  And there was the fear that Byleth wouldn’t approve of that—wouldn’t accept that part of him—and that he’d leave Dimitri all alone.</p><p><em>“You’re not alone” </em>the voices would reassure quietly.  And the prince bit his lip to stop himself from responding.  There were others too, of course.  Dedue and Mercedes, who had suffered their fair share of evil and become both hardened and softened by it.  Dimitri envied them for being able to balance both sides of the scale.</p><p>
  <em>Because here I am, trying to drown out the sorrow and all the while, it’s been the one drowning me.</em>
</p><p>With another measure breath, the prince pulled himself to a stand and stepped back out into the hall.  There was no point in remaining in his dorm with only his thoughts—his regrets—and the unintentional reminder going on next door.</p><p>
  <em>Perhaps I ought to visit Professor Manuela… she could examine my hip, if nothing else.</em>
</p><p>But really, more than anything, Dimitri was doing it because Byleth had told him to.</p><p> </p><p>***</p><p> </p><p>When Dimitri made it up onto the upper floors, he contemplated stepping into the Captain’s Quarters but the door was closed.  Manuela’s bustling about was loud enough to hear from the hallway and Dimitri knew his guilt would fester if he didn’t do as Byleth had said and get examined.</p><p>          “Professor—,” he began softly, standing awkwardly in the doorway.</p><p>Manuela stopped humming a little tune to herself and spun, a spell slinking down her arm.</p><p>          “Dimitri!” she hissed, relieved.</p><p>Her spell evaporated and Dimitri folded his hands behind his back, suddenly apprehensive.</p><p>          “You startled me,” said Manuela, “though that should be obvious.  In any case, what can I do for you?  Sleep aid?”</p><p>The ghosts behind Manuela parted politely as she swept to her cabinets, fingernails clicking against glass bottles and stoneware.  Dimitri blinked and then dropped his gaze to the floor.</p><p>          “That—, won’t be necessary,” he said and hoped she wouldn’t pry, “I was hoping you could examine me.”</p><p>Manuela glanced at him over her shoulder.</p><p>          “Oh?  Sparring trouble?”</p><p>Dimitri thought back to Byleth, pinned beneath him.  The memory alone was enough to make his lips buzz again.  He swallowed thickly.</p><p>          “Something like that.”</p><p>Manuela watched him for a few moments too long but seemed to ultimately decide there was no point in prodding him for an elaboration.  Dimitri breathed a sigh of relief as she gestured to one of the cots.</p><p>          “Disrobe,” she said, “and I’ll—,”</p><p>She trailed off, frowning.  There was noise on the other side of the wall and Manuela frowned.</p><p>          “Again?” she muttered to herself, “I swear, that man’s inhuman, the way he wanders about without any sleep.  Talk about someone in need of a sleep aid…”</p><p>Dimitri was just about to loosen his belt when Manuela scoffed again.</p><p>          “Just a moment,” she said, “I’m only running over to check on him.”</p><p>The prince blinked, “On Professor Hanneman?”</p><p>He had been certain the scholar’s study was across the hall.</p><p>          “No,” said Manuela tiredly, “on the Professor—on Byleth.  He’s been coming up here a lot lately.”</p><p>She paused.</p><p>          “Something’s got him thinking.  And he can’t seem to work it out, I suppose…”</p><p>Dimitri wasn’t vain enough to think he was the source of Byleth’s irritation.  Little did he know.</p><p>          “What did you need me to take a look at?” Manuela asked, distracted.</p><p>          “My hip,” said Dimitri, “but I can simply come back tomorrow mo—,”</p><p>          “Nonsense,” interrupted Manuela, “this’ll only take me a moment.  Disrobe and I’ll be back by the time you’re ready.”</p><p>Dimitri doubted it but he nodded and sank back onto the cot as Manuela snatched up a few glass vials and strode into the hall.  When it became clear that she was going to be a while, Dimitri leant back and rested his head against the wall.</p><p>          “Honestly,” he could hear Manuela’s sharp tone cut through the silence like a knife, “go visit Jeralt if you need to talk about something.  Sitting in here does no one any good.”</p><p>Dimitri bit his lip; he didn’t want to eavesdrop on Byleth like this.  But at the same time…</p><p> </p><p>“If you keep this up, you’re going to worry your House,” warned Manuela, “you might think they don’t notice but they do, Professor.  You’ve got some pretty perceptive ones under your wing, you know.”</p><p>Byleth lifted his tired gaze up into her face.</p><p>          “Saints,” swore Manuela, “what did you do to your face?  Did you run into something at full speed, you clumsy oaf?”</p><p>          “Your words wound me, Lady Casagranda” said Byleth.</p><p>Manuela scoffed, amused, “I don’t doubt it.  Now, for the sake of your cubs, take this sleeping aid and get thee gone, foul beast.”</p><p>Byleth accepted one of the vials but made no move to uncork it.  Manuela frowned at him.</p><p>          “Don’t be difficult about this, Professor.”</p><p>          “Manuela, you have a lot of experience with men, don’t you?”</p><p>The songstress blinked.  And then her frown deepened.</p><p>          “What of it?  Don’t turn this around on me; I won’t take a lecture from a sleep-deprived mercenary with a penchant for showing up caked in blood.”</p><p>She mopped at Byleth’s face with the edge of her sleeve before pinching his nose.</p><p>          “Nothing’s broken,” Manuela said, “thank the Goddess for that.”</p><p>          “I don’t know anything about Nobility.”</p><p>Manuela bit her lip, “Has someone caught your eye?  Or maybe, you’ve caught there’s?”</p><p>          “Sort of,” Byleth allowed.</p><p>Manuela took in a slow inhale and then settled on the edge of Jeralt’s desk; this was going to be a long night.</p><p> </p><p>“Well, my experiences are not universal,” Manuela began, “and, also, overwhelmingly bad overall.  So, perhaps, you would have better luck asking Thunderbrand Catherine.  Or even Shamir.  I’m certain you could ask Seteth, just for his reaction, of course.”</p><p>Byleth could practically hear Sothis in his head: “There you go again, making sweet Cichol sweat!  You just don’t give up, do you?”</p><p>          “He’s too flighty about that,” said Byleth, “it’s really rotten luck.  Plus, Seteth seems much more like a priest than an advisor, don’t you think?”</p><p>          “He hasn’t taken a vow of celibacy, if that’s what you mean,” replied Manuela.</p><p>This was enough to make Byleth crack a smile.  On the other side of the wall, Dimitri let his eyes fall shut; he tried to picture the two of them in the Captain’s Quarters.</p><p>          “It’s the customs,” the professor said finally, “I don’t know them.  <em>Any</em> of them.  And this is—, my first time, really.”</p><p>Manuela’s eyes went wide.  Dimitri stopped breathing.</p><p>          “Your first—,”</p><p>          “Feeling this way,” said Byleth, lifting a hand to his chest.</p><p>He squeezed the fabric over his heart, sucking in a long breath.  Manuela watched him with unabashed intrigue.  She’d recognise that forlorn expression anywhere.  After all, did she not wear it as often as not?  How easily she fell in love, and just as easily as out of it.  But Byleth, on the other hand…</p><p>          “I’ve been a mercenary all my life,” Byleth reminded, “it isn’t as though I had much time to think about things like this.”</p><p>          “Things like what?”</p><p>          “Feelings,” said Byleth lamely.</p><p>Manuela nodded, “Ah.”</p><p>          “And this nobleman… I really shouldn’t get involved with him.”</p><p>Dimitri’s heart stuttered in his chest; did Byleth have an interest in someone else?  Even after… the flashes of that evening—the kiss, the taste, the invitation to go somewhere more private—there was no way, right?</p><p>          “They tend to be trouble,” agreed Manuela, “loud, forceful types.”</p><p>Her lip curled at the thought.</p><p>          “Not this one,” said Byleth and he scoffed a bit to himself at the silliness of it, “he’s… quiet.  A great leader, with some impressive charisma and an aura that draws others in.  I can’t help but want to lend him strength, to support him.”</p><p>Dimitri blinked.</p><p>          “Are you in love with Riegan’s heir?”</p><p>Byleth was silent for a moment.  Dimitri felt his stomach flip.  Byleth was in love with…</p><p>And then the professor laughed.</p><p>          “Claude?” he said, “he’s certainly attractive, they all are.  But, <em>Goddess</em>, Manuela.”</p><p>          “But if not him, then…” she trailed off, staring, “surely not, Professor.  You can’t mean…”</p><p>Byleth pinked.</p><p>          “It’s impossible, I know,” he murmured and his voice was so soft that Dimitri had to hold his breath to hear.</p><p>Manuela shook her head, disbelieving.</p><p>          “Of everyone, it had to be…”</p><p>          “Dimitri.  Yes, I <em>know</em>.”</p><p>On the other side of the wall, Dimitri pulled his legs to his chest and prayed for the Goddess to take him.</p><p> </p><p>***</p><p> </p><p>When Dimitri finally made it back to his dorm, Sylvain and Felix had retired for the night.  That knowledge did little to improve his mood.  On the one hand, of course, he was ecstatic.  Byleth returned his feelings!  And yet, at the same time…</p><p><em>“You’re not alone,” </em>the ghosts reminded carefully from where they were all clustered together at the desk.  That was right. </p><p>          “Leave me in peace,” Dimitri longed to say, “just for a bit.  I promise, I swear to all of you, I’ll—,”</p><p>But when he looked up to them, to plead for just a moment’s respite, they faded away.  Even so, the weight of their gazes didn’t quite fade.</p><p>          “Goodnight then,” he breathed.</p><p>And yet, as he eased down into his bed and closed his eyes, Byleth’s words—the feel of Byleth’s mouth against his, the professor’s muffled moan as Dimitri tasted him at the Training Grounds where <em>anyone</em> could see them—it all came flooding back behind Dimitri’s eyelids.  He drew a slow breath, his cock twitching in his sleeping trousers.</p><p>He’d get no sleep at this rate.  And then Byleth would blame himself for Dimitri’s poor state.  And then things would be over before they even really started.</p><p>“<em>All I could think of was having another go at you</em>,” Byleth’s voice echoed in the prince’s mind.</p><p>“<em>I’ve been needing this,</em>” he’d said.  Dimitri bit his lip and eased a hand between his legs.  The fabric at his groin was beginning to chafe uncomfortably against his heated skin.</p><p>He sucked in a shallow breath and slowly palmed himself beneath the sheet, curling up as desire coiled in his belly.  Dimitri tensed as his leg twitched against the rising pleasure.  He wouldn’t last long at this rate.  But, how could he?  After everything that had happened over these past few weeks—months, really—with Byleth… it was impossible to try to keep a lid on it.</p><p>          “<em>Professor</em>—,” the prince muttered to himself, voice hoarse with desperation.</p><p>He squeezed his eyes shut and let the memories of Byleth drift through his mind.  And then, after a moment, once he’d memorised every part of Byleth’s beautiful body, he imagined it was Byleth who was touching him.</p><p>          “Professor, <em>please</em>—,” he choked.</p><p>Dimitri imagined he was in Byleth’s bed and the professor had come onto him slowly, elegantly—because everything Byleth did always seemed so rugged and yet so elegant at the same time—and slowly curled his fingers around the prince’s cock.  Dimitri imagined Byleth was pleasantly surprised by his arousal.</p><p><em>“You’re so good for me, Mit’ya,” </em>he’d say.  Dimitri bit his lip to stop the moan that had risen in his throat.</p><p><em>“Relax, Mit’ya, relax,” </em>Byleth would encourage as he found each of Dimitri’s sensitive spots.  The prince slowed his hand’s movement and carefully traced the ridges of his swollen cock.  He held his hand at an angle, imagining it was Byleth, testing out different grips to see which suited the prince best.</p><p>          “More—,” Dimitri murmured, “more, Professor.”</p><p>And he pictured Byleth’s smug expression; the professor would be so proud to be able to take Dimitri apart like this—piece by piece. </p><p><em>“That’s it,” </em>Byleth would encourage, leaning in so his warm, sultry voice would be right against the shell of Dimitri’s ear.</p><p>
  <em>“Just a bit more attention and you’ll be coming for me, won’t you, Mit’ya?  You’ll come for me?”</em>
</p><p>          “<em>Yes</em>—,” Dimitri gasped, squeezing himself at the base of his cock and pumping himself furiously, “yes, Professor.  <em>Yes</em>, Professor—!”</p><p>And then he was awash in ecstasy.  Dimitri shuddered as the waves of his orgasm crashed over him.  Goddess, and it felt so <em>good</em>.  Dimitri would’ve never done anything like this before.  And yet, to pleasure himself to the memory of Byleth was—it was perfect.  It was beautiful.  And Dimitri wanted more.</p><p> </p><p>***</p><p> </p><p>          The following day, there were no lectures.  Dimitri had made it his personal mission to find Byleth and apologise for his odd behaviour after their little tryst at the Training Grounds.  But as fate would have it, the Goddess apparently had others plans.</p><p>          “I was hoping you could tell me another quick story about my father.”</p><p>It had started with Annette.  And that was simple enough.  Dimitri liked talking to her and speaking about a time in his life before—, before things had changed.  It was easy.  And she was so bubbly and bright-eyed about Dimitri’s stories that he didn’t mind it.</p><p>          “Your Highness—,”</p><p>Dedue had wanted to discuss a private matter regarding Dimitri’s continued association with him.  Dimitri had brushed off his worries, reassuring him that there was no need for worry.  Dedue seemed to be the only one—aside from maybe Felix—who saw Dimitri for what he really was.  It was oddly comforting.</p><p>Once that had been settled, Mercedes had invited Dimitri for afternoon tea.  She was gentle and strong and Dimitri admired her ability to set aside her trauma for the sake of others.</p><p>          “If, of course, you’re busy, I understand,” Mercie had said with a gentle smile.</p><p>Dimitri had quickly denied that, deciding that he could always find Byleth in the Dining Hall for dinner.  The tea had been lovely as always; the prince was beginning to associated the gentle lemon aroma of the tea with Mercie.  When he mentioned it offhandedly, Mercedes had behind the cover of her hand, amused and yet relieved.  Dimitri had been a bit sad to part ways.  And yet, he was determined to find Byleth; he had to set things straight.</p><p> </p><p>***</p><p> </p><p>          Once he’d made his way to the Dining Hall, Dimitri found himself rather apprehensive.  Knowing what he knew now about Byleth’s desires towards him made this feel all the more scandalous; he felt as though all eyes were on him.  Maybe it was just the ghosts.  Dimitri studied the floor.  Or, he had every intention of doing so until—,</p><p>          “Your Highness!”</p><p>Dimitri jerked to attention at the sound of the voice.  He feared for a long moment that it was Claude; that would’ve been impossible.  How could he possibly look at him knowing that Manuela had thought Byleth had fallen for him? </p><p>          “Sylvain!” said Dimitri, “It’s only you.”</p><p>Then, of course, as soon as he looked into Sylvain’s face, everything he’d heard last night came tumbling back into his mind.  He flushed deeply and Sylvain frowned at him.</p><p>          “You feeling okay, Your Highness?”</p><p>          “Yes!” Dimitri answered a bit too swiftly, “Yes, I’m quite alright.”</p><p>Sylvain scratched the back of his head and bit his lip.</p><p>          “I know that expression well enough,” the prince said softly, falling into conversation with Sylvain easily, “something’s certainly weighing on you.”</p><p>          “I should’ve known you could see through my roguish charm,” teased Sylvain, though his flirtation fell a bit flat.</p><p>He seemed to deflate a bit and Dimitri wasn’t sure what to say.  Even now as the Blue Lions’ House Leader—even as one of Sylvain’s childhood friends—Dimitri felt further from him than ever.</p><p>          “Sylvain—,”</p><p>          “Your Highness, out of all of us, you’re the closest with the Professor, right?” Sylvain interrupted as though he couldn’t keep the words in any longer.</p><p>Dimitri blinked.  And then, once Sylvain’s words had registered, he quickly glanced about, wondering again if anyone knew of his intentions.</p><p>
  <em>Of what I did last night… to think of the Professor like that and then to go and—,</em>
</p><p>          “I’m not sure I’d say—,”</p><p>          “He’s been weird lately,” Sylvain cut in again, “and I—, well, <em>I </em>can’t go and ask him what’s up.  So, I figured you could try talking to him.”</p><p>Dimitri blinked.</p><p>          “Me—?” he managed to squeeze out.</p><p>Sylvain shrugged, “You’re good at that kind of stuff—at figuring people out, I mean.”</p><p>Dimitri scratched his cheek and just as he was readying a denial, Sylvain added:</p><p>          “Not to mention—you were spot-on about that Angel Mead!  Ser Freyr was really into it and Anna seemed pleased with the gift.  If that discounted Levin Sword is any indication…”</p><p>He trailed off, willing to let Dimitri come to his own conclusion about his talent in reading people.  And though the prince wasn’t sure as to the validity of Sylvain’s claim, there was no doubt that this task would provide him with the perfect excuse to see Byleth.</p><p>          “He was headed back to his chamber when I last saw him,” Sylvain said quietly.</p><p>Dimitri nodded wordlessly.</p><p>          “Ingrid won’t get off my back about this—she keeps saying how it’s my fault for all the—never mind.  Anyway, I’d really appreciate it if you could take care of the Professor.”</p><p>          “You haven’t asked Mercedes?”</p><p>Sylvain glanced over at her.  She was perched next to Annette, listening to the tiny mage work through a tough problem from last week’s lecture with Shamir.</p><p>          “She seemed busy.”</p><p>Dimitri hummed in acknowledgement; he didn’t want to disturb her.  She deserved to spend time with Annette, not to be burdened with every little complication that befell their small House.</p><p>          “His chamber, you said?”</p><p>          “Yep.”</p><p>Dimitri nodded again—more to himself than to Sylvain—and ducked his head, pacing briskly in the direction of Byleth’s dorm.  Sylvain quietly studied him as he exited the Hall.  And then, remembering where he was—and perhaps more importantly: who could see him—he brightened, tucked his hands into his trouser pockets and smiled in an ambiguous way.  And then he spun on heel and began to whistle a little tune as he stepped out into the night.</p><p> </p><p>          Byleth had welcomed Dimitri into his chamber with a mere: “Good evening.”  It had been much more formal than the prince had expected; despite the contrasting ease with which Byleth gestured for him to enter.  As Byleth closed his chamber door, Dimitri studied his room.  It was sparse, save for a few weapons and several stacks of reading material from the library’s collection.  One of the topmost tomes sported the obvious yellow tag denoting it was not to be removed from the library’s premises.  Byleth had obviously ignored it.  Dimitri was certain Seteth would eat him alive if he knew.</p><p>          “What can I do for you?” asked Byleth, turning to rest his gaze upon Dimitri, “It’s a bit late for a spar.”</p><p>Dimitri shifted his weight from one foot and then to the other.  And then back again.  Byleth was still wearing most of his Academy garb, save for his signature overcoat.  Without it, he looked a bit too lean for a mercenary.  And Byleth was resting all of his weight on his right leg; was his weak leg sore from their earlier fight?</p><p>          “We should sit down,” Dimitri said unthinkingly.</p><p>Byleth blinked but nodded in agreement, wordlessly easing onto the edge of his narrow bed.  Dimitri awkwardly sank into his desk chair.  And then he cleared his throat as though it would just as easily clear the air between them.</p><p>          “If there’s something you must discuss with me regarding any of the lecture material, Ferdinand von Aegir has already provided me with a list of questions.  So perhaps you could take a look at them just to be sure that <em>your</em> question hasn’t already been—,”</p><p>          “I came to check on you.”</p><p>Byleth trailed off and stared at Dimitri.</p><p>          “I <em>told </em>you that glamourous songstress was right!” Sothis snapped from her perch.</p><p>Byleth dropped his gaze.  He was frustrated that Manuela had been correct; he really <em>had</em> been worrying the cubs.  Damn it all.</p><p>          “Yes, of course,” the professor said to neither one of them in particular.</p><p>Dimitri folded his hands in his lap, thinking.  He’d managed to provide the reason for his coming all this way.  Or, more aptly, <em>one </em>of the reasons.  Byleth was watching him quietly, waiting for an elaboration.  But to be quite frank, Dimitri was at a loss; could Sylvain really have picked up on the tensions bouncing between himself and the professor?</p><p>          “Don’t torture the poor boy,” Sothis chided quietly, easing down to sit on the edge of the desk.</p><p>She was much too close to Dimitri for Byleth’s comfort.</p><p>          “He’s doing his best,” she reminded, “and yet he is young and inexperienced.”</p><p>Byleth resisted the urge to roll his eyes lest Dimitri think he was disinterested.</p><p>          “Ah, but now that I think about it, you’re much the same, are you not?”</p><p>          “That’s none of your concern,” Byleth muttered at her, irritated by her insinuation.</p><p>Just because he was inexperienced didn’t mean he had to be foolish about this.  Especially when things involved Dimitri of all people.  Perhaps it would’ve been easier to have fallen in love with Claude.  At least he was in a different House.</p><p>          “Oh,” said Dimitri, shooting to a stand, “my apologies, Professor.  I meant no disrespect.  I—, I’ll leave you to the rest of your evening, then.”</p><p>As the prince crossed the room towards the door, Byleth realised Dimitri must’ve thought his words to Sothis were meant for him.</p><p>          “Wait,” Byleth said quickly, reaching out to catch the prince’s arm, “Dimitri.”</p><p>Dimitri tensed at the contact, freezing up as Byleth got to a stand and looked into his face.</p><p>          “I—, I didn’t mean that. I—, don’t go.  Just yet.”</p><p>          “That’s it, that’s it!” encouraged Sothis, “Pour your heart out, you!”</p><p>Byleth waved her off and she snorted, amused, before dissipating.  The professor made a show of flexing his fingers to avoid getting a quizzical look from Dimitri at the gesture; as much as Byleth might’ve enjoyed her company, it was hard to interact with the others whenever Sothis was around.    </p><p>          “I hadn’t realised what an effect my thoughts were having on everyone,” Byleth said softly, dropping his gaze, “it was never my intention to worry any of you.”</p><p>Dimitri felt his face heat; these words were so heart-felt and shared in such an intimate place.  He was reeling from the shock of it all.</p><p>          “Professor—,” he said, “Professor, I’m the one who ought to be sorry.”</p><p>Byleth frowned at him, uncomprehending.</p><p>          “I—, at the Training Grounds—, that was… nice.  I want—, to do more of that.  And that evening I… lost my nerve.  And I should’ve simply told you then and there.  But I was afraid.”</p><p>Byleth gazed up into his face.  It took great effort for Dimitri to meet his eyes.</p><p>          “I don’t think it’s wise to get tangled up with someone like me,” the prince confessed.</p><p>There was a moment of silence as Byleth took this in.  And then, he chuckled to himself.  A small smile flitted across his face before he managed to school his features.</p><p>          “Ah, well,” he breathed finally. “wisdom is not my strong suit.”</p><p>Dimitri thought back to Manuela’s words to Byleth in the Captain’s Quarters.</p><p>
  <em>“Did you run into something at full speed, you clumsy oaf?”</em>
</p><p>He could certainly see where Byleth was lacking in the wisdom department.  And somehow, that tickled him.  It took the pressure off.  Things felt normal again; whatever tension had been building in the air eased into nothingness.</p><p>          “But I’m glad,” Byleth said, and he squeezed Dimitri’s hand, “I’m relieved not to be the only one who… wanted those things to continue.”</p><p>          “Of course not!” Dimitri reassured, “I—, I would like it.  If it were you.  If with you, I could—,”</p><p>Byleth blinked expectantly at him.  The prince blushed hard and dropped his gaze.</p><p>          “What I mean to say, Professor, is that I’d like—, if we could pick up where we left off.  At the Training Grounds.”</p><p>Byleth’s expression softened and he nodded, leaning to press a quick kiss to Dimitri’s lips.</p><p>          “Of course,” he murmured, “I’d like that.”</p><p> </p><p>          Dimitri bent and crooked his neck, setting a single trembling hand to Byleth’s shoulder.  The professor leant into his touch and tipped his head back to receive his attention.</p><p>          “Can we kiss—?” Dimitri asked quietly, his breath warm against Byleth’s lips, “Like we did before?”</p><p>          “Yes,” the professor answered, and his gaze dropped to Dimitri’s mouth, “if that’s what you want.”</p><p>          “That’s what I want.”</p><p>          “That’s good.”</p><p>When Byleth finally closed the space between them and put his mouth to Dimitri’s, the prince relaxed into his touch.  Byleth pulled him closer by his hips, tasting him slowly, taking his time.  And when the professor moaned into his mouth, Dimitri couldn’t help but press against him, desperate for the contact.</p><p>          “The bed—,” Byleth gasped out between breaths.</p><p>Dimitri released him and the professor eased down onto the bedspread with a sigh.  When he lifted his gaze to the prince’s face, his expression was warm.  Dimitri felt his face heat at such an open expression.  Byleth blinked and then bent, stretching down to unlace his boots.  Dimitri knelt before him and set his hand atop the professor’s.</p><p>          “Let me,” he said softly.</p><p>Byleth blinked at him wordlessly as Dimitri took his time gently unlacing the professor’s boots.</p><p>          “Dimitri—,” Byleth murmured as the prince drew off his boot and set it aside.</p><p>He returned his hands to the professor’s leg and he traced the gentle curving muscle of Byleth’s calf.  Before Byleth could say anything, Dimitri ducked down and pressed a kiss to the professor’s mangled knee atop his trousers.</p><p>          “Professor—,” he whispered against the fabric, “<em>Professor—</em>,”</p><p>And when Dimitri lifted his head and looked into Byleth’s face, the professor was blushing hard.  He had put a hand to his mouth as though to obscure whatever expression he was making as a result of Dimitri’s ministrations.  The prince dropped his gaze again slowly and returned to the task at hand, carefully undoing the lacing of Byleth’s other boot.  Once he’d done that, he felt his way up Byleth’s legs, tracing the toned muscle until his hands rested across the professor’s thighs.</p><p>          “Professor,” he breathed, lifting his head.</p><p>Byleth ducked to meet him in the middle, kissing him with a bit more force; he was eager to pick up where they’d left off at the Training Grounds.  Dimitri, following his lead, slowly rose until he was all but crouching over Byleth.  When the professor leant back to rest against the wall, Dimitri followed him, straddling his lap.  Their proximity was so close and the prince revelled in it.  And from the way Byleth was canting up his hips, grinding himself against Dimitri—he was just as pleased with the setup.  Dimitri braced himself with one hand against the wall and bent to kiss the professor.  Byleth parted his lips immediately and the prince wasted no time mapping out his mouth.  He must’ve done something right with his tongue—Byleth gasped and when they broke apart for a breath.  The professor tipped his head back and closed his eyes.  Dimitri ducked to press a few kisses to his neck and when Byleth made an encouraging sound, the prince took it a step further and dragged his teeth over the professor’s pulsepoint.</p><p>          “<em>Dimitri—</em>,” Byleth choked out, lifting a hand to the back of the prince’s head, threading his fingers through his coarse hair, “more—,”</p><p>          “It’s good?” Dimitri asked, his voice heavy and heated against Byleth’s skin.</p><p>The professor hummed enthusiastically.</p><p>          “Yes, yes,” he reassured, “I—,”</p><p>The rest of his sentence was lost as Dimitri returned his mouth to Byleth’s neck, sucking slowly at the skin over his pulsepoint.  The professor shifted beneath him, desperate for some friction.  When Dimitri seemed too caught up in marking him to notice, Byleth dropped his free hand down to the prince’s hip and guided him closer so they could grind against one another.  At that attention, Dimitri seemed suddenly startled from his reverie.</p><p>          “Professor—,” he murmured, pulling back to focus on the feel of Byleth rubbing against him, “Professor, I—,”</p><p>He sucked in a shallow breath as Byleth moved to push the fabric of his tunic to one side so he could undo his trousers.</p><p>          “In the way…” Byleth muttered to himself.</p><p>Dimitri couldn’t help but stare as the professor shoved his hand into his briefs and exposed his cock.  It was a beautiful thing, the prince thought, nestled between a patch of dark hair with a perfect bead of precum at the tip.  He wanted to devour Byleth right in that moment.  Perhaps Felix had been right; maybe he was more boar than man.</p><p>          “You too,” Byleth said and his voice was hoarse.</p><p>Dimitri didn’t need to be told twice.  His hands were trembling as he undid his own trousers and exposed himself.  He felt uncomfortably guilty in that moment.  This wasn’t right.  But when Byleth stretched out his hand and took Dimitri by the hip, pulling him close enough to press their erections together, the prince keened and all thoughts of guilt were quickly forgotten.</p><p>          “Professor<em>—, Professor—,</em>” he murmured as Byleth fisted one of his hands around their cocks, “Professor, <em>please</em>—, <em>more</em>—,”</p><p>Byleth nodded in acknowledgement and pumped his hand up and down their lengths.  Dimitri tensed up at the attention and then, when he could no longer restrain himself, curled his hand around Byleth’s, squeezing.  When the professor’s grip around his cock tightened deliciously, Dimitri let out a pleased sound.</p><p>          “<em>Yes</em>—,” he gasped out, nearly ecstatic, “just like that—, <em>Professor</em>—,”</p><p>Byleth was panting and Dimitri leant into him, desperate for more contact.  He sucked in a breath against the professor’s shoulder and Byleth made a small sound as Dimitri’s callused hand guided his own up and down their cocks.</p><p>          “<em>Mit’ya</em>—,” Byleth choked out, “I’m—, close.”</p><p>Dimitri could certainly relate.</p><p>          “Me too,” he breathed, “together, Professor.  Let’s—, together.”</p><p>Byleth swallowed thickly and nodded.  His pace increased and the prince leant back to seize Byleth in another kiss, determined to make this feeling last.  Mounting his orgasm in his professor’s lap was not what he’d been anticipating upon arrival, but Dimitri found that it was an outcome he did not dislike. </p><p> </p><p>Byleth moaned against the prince’s lips as his hips canted up with his release.  He squeezed his hand around their cocks, trying to milk his own orgasm for all the euphoria it was worth.  A moment after, as Dimitri looked into Byleth’s blissed-out face, he was spilling over their hands with a guttural sound.  Byleth pumped him through it, the movements encouraging and careful.  Dimitri liked how the professor handled him. </p><p>          “Again—?” the prince asked before he’d come down off his high.</p><p>Byleth’s gaze dropped to the mess they’d made between themselves.</p><p>          “Perhaps not,” he said, realistic in the face of their mutual desire.</p><p>And then, after he’d had a moment to think, he elaborated with: “Perhaps not tonight, Mit’ya.  But eventually.  If you so desire it.”</p><p>          “I do,” Dimitri said quickly, “I absolutely do, Professor.”</p><p>Byleth nodded but his expression was unreadable.  Dimitri desperately wanted to reveal everything he’d learnt from his eavesdropping session last night; he wanted to reassure Byleth that the inexperience and the worry over their respective positions was mutual.  But he couldn’t manage to find the right words.  As Dimitri eased from the professor’s lap, Byleth clambered from the bed and dropped his ruined trousers in a heap.  They were followed shortly by his tunic.  Dimitri tried not to stare as the professor traipsed over to his wardrobe and found a nightgown.</p><p>          “I’m not sure I have anything that’ll fit you quite right,” Byleth said.</p><p>Amusement flickered in his eyes.  Dimitri blinked.  It took a few moments for the professor’s words to register.</p><p>          “You—, are you expecting I stay the night?” he said.</p><p>Byleth narrowed his gaze.</p><p>          “If you’d rather not, that’s perfectly alri—,”</p><p>          “I want to stay,” Dimitri interrupted, “that is to say—, I would like to spend the evening with you, Professor.”</p><p>Byleth nodded, “Perhaps we should consider a bath first.”</p><p>An evening bath with the professor sounded perfect.  Dimitri nodded, “I—, if you think it would be appropriate.”</p><p>Byleth paused for a moment, thinking.  Sothis materialised upon her perch and gave the professor a knowing look.  Byleth rolled his eyes at her.</p><p>          “Most of the students and faculty have retired for the evening,” she told him, “so you and your prince would have the baths all to yourselves.  You know, in case you decided you want to… continue your earlier escapades.”</p><p>          “Yes, that would be lovely,” Byleth said to Dimitri, though he was staring straight at Sothis.</p><p>She giggled, amused by his reaction, and waved at him.</p><p>          “Put your clothes on, you!  You’re making the poor prince blush like a maid!”</p><p>Byleth chanced a quick glance at Dimitri over his shoulder.  Sure enough, the prince was avidly avoiding eye contact.  His cheeks were stained with blush.  The professor turned back to look at Sothis.</p><p>          “Go on then!” she encouraged tiredly, “You’ve finally acted on your feelings.  For that, I find myself almost proud.  I’d be prouder if you could use your words next time as well.”</p><p>Byleth resisted the urge to tell her he was working on it; tonight’s development had been a bit… unexpected.  Though certainly appreciated.</p><p>          “Professor—?”</p><p>          “It isn’t quite cold enough, but perhaps we could wear mantels and no one would question it,” Byleth volunteered.</p><p>Dimitri seemed mortified by the idea and the professor shook his head.</p><p>          “Wisdom is not your strong suit,” said the prince.</p><p>          “I agree!” Sothis chimed in.</p><p>Byleth sighed.</p><p>          “What am I going to do with you?” he wondered to neither of them in particular.</p><p>Sothis chuckled.  Dimitri smiled to himself.</p><p>And far across the campus, Felix tucked his head beneath Sylvain’s chin.</p><p>          “Do you actually think that foolish plan of yours worked?”</p><p>Sylvain toyed with a strand of the swordsman’s raven hair and closed his eyes with a steady exhale, “Who could say?”</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>im considering adding another chapter onto this (or writing a sequel) because i kinda wanna do a bath scene with these two now,,, maybe post-timeskip... thoughts for later... i hope y'all enjoyed! stay safe out there! &lt;3<br/>(also feel free to hmu on twitter @actualcrowbeau to chat away about 3h and dimitri!) &lt;3</p></blockquote></div></div>
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